Chapter 71: My Son's Confidence Matters More

The next morning, Veeresh woke up earlier than usual.

He barely slept the previous night.

Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the red marks on Aryan's back.

The tears.

The fear.

The way his little boy had hidden everything for a week.

That hurt him more than anything else.

Beside him, Poornima was already awake.

She looked at him quietly.

Neither needed to say much.

Both knew what had to be done.

Aryan came downstairs after getting ready for school.

But unlike every other day, there was no excitement on his face.

No stories.

No endless questions.

No bright smile.

The little boy simply stood quietly.

Veeresh noticed everything.

And it hurt.

After breakfast, Veeresh held Aryan's hand.

"Come."

Aryan looked up.

"School?"

"Yes."

The little boy's face immediately fell.

Poornima knelt beside him.

"Don't worry, beta."

She kissed his forehead.

"Papa is with you."

Aryan nodded slowly.

A few minutes later, Veeresh and Aryan arrived at the school.

The principal immediately stood up when he saw them.

"Namaste, Thakur sa."

Veeresh's expression remained serious.

"Sit."

The principal slowly sat down.

Aryan stood beside Veeresh, holding his father's hand tightly.

The teachers sensed something was wrong.

Soon a few of them gathered in the office.

Veeresh looked at all of them.

Then finally spoke.

His voice was calm.

But everyone could hear the anger underneath.

"For one week."

The room became silent.

"My son was bullied."

Nobody spoke.

"For one week, children mocked him."

Silence.

"They hit him."

The principal's face turned pale.

"And they told him that me and my wife are not his real parents."

Aryan lowered his head.

The memory still hurt.

Veeresh squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Then looked back at the staff.

"My son came home crying."

The principal immediately said,

"Thakur sa, we didn't know—"

"You didn't know."

Veeresh interrupted.

"And that itself is the problem."

Nobody had an answer.

His eyes moved around the room.

"You are teachers."

"You are responsible for children when they are inside this school."

A few teachers looked ashamed.

Veeresh continued.

"A child should feel safe here."

"A child should learn here."

"A child should gain confidence here."

His voice became heavier.

"But my son came home believing there was something wrong with him."

Aryan looked at his father.

His eyes filling again.

Veeresh immediately placed a hand on his shoulder.

Then he looked at the principal.

"You know what hurt me most?"

The principal remained silent.

"My son thought telling us would make him a cry baby."

The room fell completely silent.

Every teacher lowered their eyes.

Because there was no defense for that.

None.

Veeresh took a deep breath.

Then stood up.

"My son will not study here."

The principal immediately looked shocked.

"Thakur sa, please—"

"No."

His voice was firm.

"My son's confidence is more important than this school."

Aryan stared at him.

The little boy's heart slowly feeling lighter.

"My son trusted this place."

Veeresh continued.

"And this place failed him."

The principal stood up.

"We are sorry."

Veeresh nodded.

"I believe you are."

"But the damage is already done."

Then he gently pulled Aryan closer.

The little boy stood beside him.

Small.

Quiet.

But protected.

Veeresh looked proudly at him.

Then addressed everyone in the room.

"This is Aryan Veeresh Thakur."

His voice carried strength.

Pride.

Love.

"He is my son."

The words filled the room.

Every teacher listened.

Every staff member listened.

Every person understood exactly what he meant.

Veeresh wasn't making a legal statement.

He was making something much deeper.

A father's declaration.

Aryan looked up at him.

His eyes shining.

Because not once had Veeresh hesitated.

Not once had he treated him differently.

Not once had he allowed anyone to question their bond.

Veeresh continued.

"I don't care what people say."

"I don't care whose blood runs in his veins."

"He is my son."

The principal lowered his head.

And for the first time since entering the school, Aryan smiled.

A small smile.

But a real one.

Veeresh noticed immediately.

Then he bent down to Aryan's level.

"Ready to go?"

Aryan nodded.

"Yes, Dad."

Veeresh smiled.

The word felt especially meaningful today.

He held Aryan's hand.

Then together they walked out of the school.

Not looking back.

Because some places teach lessons.

And some lessons teach you where you no longer belong.

As father and son walked toward the Bullet, Aryan squeezed Veeresh's hand.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Veeresh looked at him.

"For what?"

Aryan smiled.

"For choosing me."

Veeresh immediately stopped walking.

His eyes softened.

Then he knelt in front of his son.

"There was never a choice, Aryan."

The little boy blinked.

Veeresh touched his cheek gently.

"You became my son the day I held you in my arms."

Aryan's eyes filled with tears.

But this time they were happy tears.

And Veeresh kissed his forehead.

Before lifting him onto the Bullet.

Then father and son rode back home together.

Where Poornima was waiting.

And where Aryan knew he would always be loved.

Exactly as he was.